


The Weekend

by icedteainthebag, justholdinghands



Category: The X-Files RPF
Genre: Balcony Scene, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 15:50:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6085644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedteainthebag/pseuds/icedteainthebag, https://archiveofourown.org/users/justholdinghands/pseuds/justholdinghands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One weekend away from it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weekend

_Friday Afternoon_

Sitting on a stool at a fancy hotel bar, legs crossed with a martini in her hand, she watches him pass through the revolving door into the cavernous lobby. Brown sunglasses tucked into his collar, he wears a pair of tight black jeans and a grey T-shirt. He has only one strap of his backpack on, and he struggles with his suitcase rolling behind him. The muscles of his strong arm are tense as he pulls his bag out of the door, and it immediately turns her on. His hair falls over his eyes and he’s wearing his glasses from the long flight. 

She crosses her legs the other way, tighter to increase the pressure on her center that’s already warming up, and eye-tracks him. He doesn’t see her yet and heads to the counter.

When he’s not looking, she slides off the barstool to join him, feeling heightened excitement as she saunters to the front desk.

“Good afternoon, sir. Are you alone here?” Gillian teases, leaning her elbow on the counter and pushing her breasts up toward him. She knows he loves this little black dress she’s wearing, the one with the tie around the neck. 

David recognizes her voice even before looking at her, and smiles widely as the hotel manager disappears in the back office to look after his key.

“No, I’m sorry ma’am, but a sex goddess is probably waiting for me upstairs. I haven’t seen her in a while, and I can’t wait to be buried inside her.”

She sucks in a breath, already wet just from his words, and runs the tip of her wedge from his ankle along his shinbone, gazing intensely at him.

“She’s one lucky girl,” she teases with a suave voice, biting the side of her bottom lip. The fans call this eye-fucking and she knows they do it well.

“Here’s your key, sir. Room 203, second floor.” The manager interrupts them, and they both straighten up as if someone has caught them in obvious offense.

David takes her hand and heads to the elevator, his wheeled luggage thumping along behind them, both trying to act normal and look like a regular couple. After an endless wait, the car finally arrives and they step in, happy to find it empty. 

As soon as the door closes, his mouth crushes against hers and she jumps in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. He stumbles against the wall, making the elevator swell, and his hand slams the button “2” blindly. 

“Hey,” he says, half laughing.

She rocks against him, moaning and whispering “I missed you” in his mouth. The friction between their bodies has put them both on edge already, and he tries to find the emergency stop button. He needs to fuck her here, now and hard. 

One of his hand slides up her dress and cups her ass, his fingers sliding into her panties-covered cleft, and the other one searches for the button, but her hands are around his face, her tongue in his mouth, he knows her clit must be throbbing as she tries to find his erection over his clothes. He can’t focus. 

The elevator stops and her tongue slips out of his mouth. He growls at the loss as she slides off his body reluctantly, her blond hair already messy, her cheeks flushed and her panties soaked. He tries to arrange his straightened erection in his pants, in vain, and they give their best polite smiles to the bunch of people waiting before the elevator as the doors open on their floor. She takes his free hand and they walk, almost run in the hallway to find their room.

As quickly as they enter, Gillian’s the one who pins him up against the back of the door, her body grinding against his tall, thick frame. She grabs his wrists and pins him to the solid wood. 

“I’m trying to decide how to fuck you first,” she says, her fingers tightening.

“Who says you get to fuck me first?”

“Ladies first,” she replies.

“Chivalry’s dead, my dear.” He smiles and easily breaks her grip on his arms, twining his fingers with hers and leading her toward the sofa in the lounge area of their room. It’s black leather and to his pleasure looks like it can be easily wiped clean.

Usually they’re in hotel rooms with massive wall-to-ceiling views of city lights. This choice of location for their weekend was more remote and the scenery more natural. The island sun is setting early and is creating a tropical canvas right outside their room, the clear waters of the ocean shoreline even further away.

He sits on the couch and pats his lap, waggling his eyebrows. She stands in front of him, her hands sliding under her skirt and pulling down her panties so they drop to the floor in a puddle of silky fabric. Then she straddles him, the loose skirt of her black dress rising midway up her thighs. His hands grip her legs, smooth warm skin under his palms. 

“I know what you want,” he says, his fingers inching up her inner thigh.

She spreads her legs further, heat nearly touching his lap, and smiles.

His fingers trace the delicate, wet folds that he finds as she stares at him, her lips parting into tiny gasps as he teases her. His finger slides in easily and she’s tight, needs to be worked up, which he’s sure that he can do.

He lets her do the work with her hips, riding his finger. Sometimes they forget that they have spare minutes, hours of time on weekend trips like these.

“How was your flight?” he asks.

“Good,” she says. “Another finger, please.”

He does what she says and her moan is a thank you. “How was your flight?” she asks, her voice a little higher as her hands clasp his shoulders. He can feel her wetness coating his fingers.

“Fine.” He laughs. She moves a little faster with his thumb brushing at her clit, buried deep in there somewhere… and she gasps when he finds it. 

“You shaved.” She kisses his smooth neck, cheek, and chin and then their lips meet in a long exchange. 

“I know you hate chafing.” He nibbles her bottom lip and pulls at the strings around her neck with his free hand. The top of her dress comes loose and falls, exposing her beautiful gumdrop nipples and her breasts that gently rise and fall with the motion of her body. That free hand cups one, teasing her as his finger works deeply into her.

She puts her hand against his cheek and lightly pushes him to the side. “Lay down.”

“Anything you say.” As she wiggles her hips off of him and stands by, he settles back into the couch and flicks open the button of his pants. She grabs his wrist. 

“No.” 

His hand falls away and she pushes her dress down her hips, leaving her clad in merely her black demi bra, her blond hair falling straight over her shoulders, one strand in her eye. She blows it away, then grabs the back of the couch and straddles his chest, squeezing her knee between his ribs and the cushion.

“That?” he says, his cock stirring. He removes his glasses and puts them above his head on the end table.

She bites her lip and nods, then with a full-hearted laugh she straddles his head with her knees. It takes a little adjustment and these seconds before he’s able to reach her with his tongue are maddening. But he clutches her ass and pulls her down so she’s perched against his nose and lips. Her hips move, spreading her tart wetness across his mouth and chin. He laps it up, licking his lips before burying his tongue in her, brushing with long strokes from bottom to top.

“God, David,” she breathes, and when he presses his lips against her clit and sucks hard, she bucks at him. Her fingernails are scraping against the couch as she tries to hold herself up while his steady suck on her clit continues. He doesn’t let go, just suckles at the sensitive flesh more and more until she’s almost whining with pleasure. His chin is soaked, the hair of her closely shaven pussy tickling his face. His palms firmly on her ass, holding her down, he’s going to make her come and she seems more than ready.

“I can’t come like this,” she pants.

He can’t speak but hums his approval against her folds. He laps at her clit broadly several times and her body tenses with rising cries of pleasure. When she comes, his cock is straining painfully against his jeans and he has to hold her tightly so she doesn’t fall off the couch.

He licks her slowly to clean her up and she sighs, lifting herself away from him. “You can breathe now.”

“Thanks,” he says, his face coated in her wetness. He uses his sleeve to wipe his face. Thank God this shirt’s not dry clean only.

She stands up and adjusts her dress, tying the straps around her neck. “I need a drink.”

David looks down at his crotch and back up at her, lifting his eyebrows. She rolls her eyes. “We’ll get to that. I’m thirsty.”

“That,” he repeats, adjusting his cock in his jeans and standing up uncomfortably. He watches her as she walks to the fridge and opens it, then stands back, stunned.

“This is all you,” she says.

“I had it stocked with coconut water,” he says. “It’s great for rehydration.”

She grabs one and twists the cap open. “You know what I need.”

He saunters over to her and slides his hands under her dress, desperate to feel the curves of her ass again. “You know what I need.”

She’s gulping down the coconut water and she smiles and tries not to laugh as his mouth travels her neck and ear. “I need some fresh air.” She hands him the drink and he takes a long draw from it, her taste in his mouth now with a hint of coconut.

He follows her outside to the balcony. He hadn’t even noticed there was one. Maybe he was too distracted at first. It’s small and the sun has now set. There’s a small light that she doesn’t turn on and they both stand and stare at the darkened seascape, passing the drink back and forth.

“It’s so quiet here.” She takes the last of the water and gently places the container at her feet. “It’s why I love it so much.”

He wraps his body around her, his chest against her back and lips on the top of her head. “Quiet is good.”

He listens to her breathe and feels her body bend as she leans over the balustrade, closing her eyes. Her ass lifts and grazes his cock and his yearning for her amps up like a rocket. He pushes his hands under the dress, over her hips, and settles one hand between her legs. His fingers part her lips and feel the warm wetness radiating from her center.

“Ah, I see.” She bends over a tad bit more and he’s too eager to wait. He fumbles with his button and zipper while his hand squeezes her heat. Pulling his cock out, he pumps it a few times with his fist and bends his knees to get low enough to breach her parted legs from behind. It slides through her wet folds and she gasps, her fingers curling around the railing. 

“Now,” he whispers, holding himself as he seeks his way inside her. He pushes slowly into her soaked pussy. It’s been a long time and she needs to stretch and relax to accommodate him. Her long breath out sounds like heaven. She settles onto him, buried deep inside her, and he holds her steady, hands on hips, while he begins to thrust.

They wordlessly proceed but it's nice not to be on for anyone or have to fake smiles or field idiotic questions. The quiet is punctuated by their soft moans and flesh slapping together, slow, fast, and slow again. He is absolutely amazed he hasn't blown his load yet but he feels incredible, on the edge but not quite over.

“You ever fucked outside?” he breathes.

“All the time.” She laughs and he gives her ass a soft spank to make her yip with surprise.

He increases his pace and bends her over further, and her body is practically putty in his hands at this point. With a few groans he spirals into orgasm, the deep jolt of pleasure leaving his balls and shooting up his spine to his head. He loses his breath and sees stars and her mess of hair spreads across her bare back and hanging into her face, over the rail.

He pulls out and she relaxes, slumping against the railing.

"Your cum's running down my leg," she whispers, then cracks up laughing. 

"Romantic." He pulls her by the hand and toward the bathroom, where he never minds helping her clean up.

They take some time to settle in after their initial frenzy of lovemaking. They put their luggage on separate sides of the room, unpack their toiletries, and explore the kitchen area for anything of substance. David, when he requested his hydrating coconut water, obviously requested vegan, natural snacks, because the counter and fridge are overflowing with them.

Gillian peruses the counter. “Brad’s Raw Kale Chips? Satay Seitan Jerky? Are you fucking serious with this?”

She grabs a bag of jerky anyway.

“That’s a great flavor,” he says. “I wonder if it’ll make you taste spicy.”

“Guess we’ll find out.” She opens the fridge. “Kombucha? David.”

“Whaaaat.”

She grabs them both a coconut water and slams the door shut. She hands it to him and they lean against the counter to drink and nosh on seitan jerky. 

“What a dinner.” 

“Do I not spoil you enough, woman?”

“You’re taking me out tomorrow.” She chews on jerky, her mouth full. “I deserve to be treated like a lady.”

They both laugh, then she sighs.

They function well around each other and don’t feel the need to fill the air with chatter beyond raucous banter such as this. There’s a comfortability in eating in silence, in her walking over to the window again and him lounging on the couch alone. It’s a satisfying quiet that they’ve rarely achieved with anyone else.

-

When she exits the bathroom she finds him lying on his stomach on the bed, comforter pulled down and sheet messily arranged over his ass. His broad back is too tempting and she slides her naked body in next to him, flinging her arm around his shoulders so she can gently kiss his shoulder blades.

“You’re lazy,” she says.

“Travel is exhausting.” 

She kisses and nibbles at his skin, her breasts pressed against his muscled side. She slides one hand down under the sheet and cups the delicious curve of his ass. She’s always been a huge fan of this part of his body, coveting it whether it’s clothed or naked. She kneads it as he settles into the bed, then makes him giggle when she runs her finger lightly up the cleft.

“You’d better get your rest, because I’m not letting you sleep again until we leave.” Her hand slides between his legs and teases his balls from behind. He jumps and softly curses and she curls against his body, leaving her hand on his butt.

“Deal,” he finally says sleepily. Her body humming, she relaxes into him.

 

_Saturday morning_

Gillian wakes up slowly, feeling the bed shifting around her, but doesn’t want to open her eyes yet. Her body is a little sore from yesterday’s activities, and she knows that as soon as she sees his pretty face and beautiful body, she’ll be ready to go again despite her ache. She could use a couple more minutes of rest. He probably won’t mind, and she is sure he has left the bed anyway, probably doing morning meditations in the other room.

When the bed moves again, she wants to stretch out, but sleepily realizes something is restricting the movement of her arms and legs. Opening her eyes, she finds herself bound on the bed, still completely naked from the night before, her wrists against the headboard and her legs wide open tied to the feet of the bed. 

She would feel vulnerable and exposed if it was anyone but him there, standing still and stark naked, grinning mischievously and sporting a rock-hard morning erection.

“Is this your revenge for calling you lazy last night?” she asks, her voice and eyes still weary. 

He hums his approval, unable to look her in the eye. “You okay? Not too tight?”

“What are you hiding?” she asks, ignoring his question, as she notices that one hand has been behind his back since she opened her eyes.

“Just a little something,” he says, heading to the bed slowly, the other hand stroking himself gently to steady the pressure of his engorged cock. He steps over her, one knee on each side of her hips, his balls slightly brushing her groin. He reveals a black blindfold that he runs over her belly to her breast, teasing her nipple with its velvety softness.

“What’s that?” she asks, already breathing heavily as she feels warm wetness gathering between her legs and goosebumps spreading all over her body.

He silently puts the blindfold over her eyes, and she lifts off the pillow so he can tie it around her head. It’s awkward and he struggles with the task, tying a mess of her hair into the knot. 

Gillian settles into the pillow. “Well, now that you have me completely at your disposal, care to explain what’s lying beside my head?”

She smiles when she hears the vibrator switch on and he presses the tip against one nipple, then the other, then runs it down her chest to her navel. “That’s what I thought.”

“It’s a new one I picked up for the occasion,” he says. He trails it further down, over her closely shaved mons and then brushes it up and down her labia. She gasps and her body instinctively moves, but the restraints keep her fairly immobile, enough to encourage him but not enough to get away.

“Shouldn’t we have a safe word?” she breathes. The vibrator makes her moan as he slides it through her inner folds.

“How about Chris Carter? We’d never say that during sex.”

She laughs. “God, really?”

David pulls the vibrator away. “Would you rather I stop?”

“No, no, no.” Her hips jolt up an inch. “Please.”

“I’m just making sure you’re ready.” He teases her inner folds again and she gasps.

“I’m ready.” Her tiny bottom hops in anticipation against the sheets.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

One of his thick fingers slides deeply into her while the tip of the vibe teases her clit. She makes a small noise in the back of her throat, her cheek pressing into the pillow.

“I want you more wet.” His finger strokes her slowly and her body quivers under the power of the vibrations on her most sensitive spot. He pushes against her, then pulls it away, pressing it like a button that makes her softly cry out every time.

“Make me come, then,” she says. She’s eager and he knows it.

“Take your time, babe.” He draws his finger all the way out. “We’ve got all day.”

She hears a buzzing as the vibrator comes closer, then slips across her lips. Her tongue follows, and then her heart sinks when he turns it off and puts it down beside her.

“What are you doing??”

“Making you wait.”

She hears a door close and listens, her senses amplified. Her heartbeat quickens when she can’t feel his presence in the room.

“David, you fucker!” she yells, shifting pointlessly against her restraints. She’s panting in time with the throbbing heat between her legs. 

A few minutes pass and she hears the door open again. “I got hungry,” she hears him say.

“I got cold.” She tries to sound angry and not eager.

“Aw. So sorry.” She feels the bed shift near her feet and then his hands slide under her ass. His mouth is over her pussy before she gets the chance to quarrel further, and he’s making sure she knows he’s there. His lips, his tongue, his teeth, his nose grinding against her clit. She feels how wet she really is as it slides across his face, his light stubble prickling her flesh. He groans into her, his fingernails digging into her skin as he takes her with his tongue, dipping deep, dragging through her like he’s seeking treasure.

And her hands are writhing against the wrist restraints and she would give anything to grab two fists of his hair and pull him harder against her, to own him. 

But he’s the one in control.

His tongue laps at her clit, the intensity and speed making her cry out. She can’t move away so she endures the near-painful surges of pleasure that are hitting her brain from that little bundle of nerves. Closer and closer she gets to coming, her whimpers increasing uncontrollably. She realizes she’s letting on, but can’t stop herself. 

His tongue slows and stops. She’s about to complain when she hears the buzzing of the vibrator again and feels it prodding her where she’s dripping for him. She almost comes from the sound. 

David slides the vibe into her and she moans and doesn’t stop as his tongue, centered on her clit, gives it a frenzied treatment while he fucks her with the toy.

She pulls on her bonds, desperate to remove the blindfold to watch what he’s doing to her, to touch him, to touch herself or anything else, but her twisting just reinforces the node around her wrists and she grunts in frustration.

She feels him smile on her clit, proud of the effect he has on her, and his tongue flicks harder on the bundle of nerves, shooting electroshocks through her whole body. She feels her juices spread all over his chin and nose, and the wet spot between her thighs grows as he strokes the vibrator faster and faster inside her.

Her hips jerk, and her pelvis thrusts down to force the vibe deeper, changing the angle of penetration slightly. He pulls the toy out of her completely for a few seconds, and pushes it quickly back inside all the way. She cries out, and he does it again, pulls out, laps her juices in a line from her entrance to her clit, and fucks her again.

She curses and writhes at the delightful and painful sensation. “Do it again, do it again,” she begs, and he obeys, following the same pattern, pull out, lick, and thrust.

She is holding back, wanting this to last as long as possible, but soon, he stills the toy against her upper wall, sliding it slowly around searching for her G-spot, and she feels her body shake and her muscles clench, a slight dizziness hitting her behind the blindfold.

“Oh my god…” she gasps, feeling the first wave of a strong orgasm wrapping her. “Oh fuck, okay, okay… Chris Carter, Chris Carter,” she stutters, the sensation of the vibrations inside her and his tongue on her clit becoming too much.

He chuckles with a last firm suck and raises his head, the toy still buried deep inside her as she comes around it. Her pelvis moves uncontrollably, her abs contracting and relaxing continuously, and her back arches so much that there’s only the top of her head resting on the pillow.

Eventually, she falls back on the bed heavily. He slowly pulls out the vibe and runs it up over her body, avoiding her too sensitive clit. He spends a few seconds on each nipple and puts the tip on her lips. He switches it off, and she opens her mouth, slipping her tongue out to taste herself on the toy. With his free hand, he removes the blindfold from her eyes, and she finds him kneeled before her, his cock rock hard, taut, a few inches away from her face.

“Untie me, so I can fuck you until you scream Chris Carter too.”

“Something I’d never thought I’d hear from your lips, I admit,” David replies.

He bends down to kiss her hard, allowing her to taste more of herself on his tongue, then rises. He straddles her, one leg brushing her belly, his dick purposefully nestled in the soft crevice between her breasts. Despite how strong her previous orgasm was, she is still wild for him and needs his cock inside her now. 

“Hurry up and untie me,” she says. 

But instead, he seems to enjoy holding her down like this. He pushes her breasts together so they surround his cock and he lightly fucks the tight space between them. His hands teasing her nipples to aching peaks and his cock so close to her face is agonizing. It reinforces her arousal, her pussy incredibly wet and unbearably empty now.

“David…” she whispers, begging him to go south, to do anything more.

He smiles and brushes the tip of his cock on the line on her lips that she parts slightly, subconsciously, giving him enough room to push it inside her mouth. The musky taste of her own juices is immediately substituted by his salty precum on her tongue, and after one slow thrust inside, he removes his dick from her mouth slowly, the flat of her tongue dragging along the line of a vein on his way out.

A “pop” sounds when he pulls out, and while she catches her breath, he finally steps off the bed to remove the bonds at her feet. She stretches her toes and bends her knees, putting herself fully on display for him, exposing her swollen and soaked folds.

“Fuck me,” she orders. Her eyes are locked on his dick, which twitches like she has some telepathic power, and he kneels between her legs and nestles up to her, lifting her ass to position her closer to him. Her thighs stuck on his ribs, he positions himself at her entrance.

“David, my hands...” she protests, seeing that he is about to fuck her with her wrists still attached to the headboard. He grins mischievously, ignoring her requests, and pushes inside her fiercely, making her cry out.

“Did I hurt you?” He’s sincerely worried, but stays fully buried inside her. He knows her limits, he knows she likes it hard, but sometimes she screams so loud that he needs to make sure she’s okay and that the pleasure is worth the pain.

“Yes! Do it again,” she growls between her teeth, clenching her fists in anticipation of his next move.

He chuckles, relieved and does as she asks, pulling out almost completely, only the tip of his cock resting in her pussy and grabs at her thighs. He knows it’ll leave bruises for days, but he wants to mark her. She lies before him, beautiful and powerless, and she is his. He owns her. And he wants to make her know it.

“Fuck me,” she begs, as he lingers half inside her not moving. He smiles and gazes at her body, shivering. “Come on..oooh, fuck!”

He doesn’t let her finish her sentence and thrusts wildly inside her.

“You like it, babe? You like it when I fuck you hard?” He thrusts gently, allowing her to relax.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “Just… let me touch you, David.”

He pushes his dick as deep as his can, his groin grinding against her clit, his hand leaving the grip of her thighs to knead one breast and pull at her nipple hard, lifting the skin and making her body swell toward him. With his free hand he pulls at the node at her wrists, finally freeing her.

“Better?”

“Better.” She nods and smiles, rotating her wrists and then caressing the strong muscles of his torso.

He bends down to kiss her and starts thrusting again, softly first, then harder and faster until he finds a rhythm that makes her moans loud and continuous. Her fingernails dig into the flesh of his arms, and the harder she scratches, the harder he fucks her. His balls slam against her anus and his pubic hair tickles her clit with every thrust.

“Going… to come… again?” he stutters, pulling at her thigh with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other.

“Yeah, don’t stop.” Her back’s already arched and her eyes are rolling into the back of her head. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t. Come on… come… for me…” He taps on her clit with his thumb when he’s buried deep, her cervix hitting the tip of his cock, and circles and rubs her clit on his way out. “Come on, Gill.” Another hard thrust to hear her cry out again. “Come for me.”

“Oh, fuck.” He’s not sure if she’s suffering or loving it, but her fists take handfuls of sheets, and with another hard thrust and complaining growl, she comes again. This time, he can feel it around him. He wants to let go, losing himself in the swell of her walls, but he is hypnotized by the sight of her orgasm. She seems to be in heaven, her lips parted in a delightful silent moan, her cheeks red and her eyes wide open in a dark shade of blue. A thin layer of sweat covers the goosebumps all over her body, and he can’t help but lick it.

Pulling out of her, he laps her from her navel to one nipple, taking his time to suck on it, and he continues his way up her neck to her jaw, and finally to her mouth. He hovers over her body with his, his engorged dick pressed between their stomachs. She gasps and pants in his mouth, and with a skillful move of her thighs, she manages to flip them over, finding herself on top of him without even breaking the kiss.

“Your turn now.”

She slides his dick between her wet folds, leaning on his chest for leverage, and pushes it inside her again. She couldn’t be wetter, nor warmer, and regarding how long he's been hard, he knows he won’t last much longer.

He cups her breasts, letting them jiggle in his palms and stays focused on the sensation of her writhing on his cock, her eyes closed and her bottom lip pulled inside her mouth. His balls tighten and he can’t hold back anymore. He meets her halfway, gripping at her ribs, and with one last thrust, he gives her everything he owns. His love, his life, his car, she can have it all, ‘cause he just died inside her, and there’s no way he would come back to life it if means being outside of her for even one minute.

His eyes are closed, but he feels the pressure on his chest increasing from the weight of her body and it means she will pull him out, soon.

“No, no, no… Stay.” He gasps and pulls her closer to him, crushing her mouth to his.  
He kisses her tenderly, her hands caressing her back and stays inside her as long as possible, until the height difference is too much and his cock becomes soft and almost pulls out itself, reluctantly of course.

“I love the shit out of you, babe.”

“Me too, David,” she whispers, resting on top of him, her cheek on his soft mat of chest hair. 

He pulls the sheet up over them and she curls into him and takes a well-deserved rest.

-

“You’re not dressed?” She gets out of the bathroom, stunning in her red dress, her hair perfectly done, and spots him still completely naked, rummaging through his suitcase.

“I think I forgot to bring a tie,” he says, wrecking every items of clothing in his bag. “Fuck babe, you’re gorgeous!” He rises, half hard, and scans her body from head to toe.

She is not sure that she’s even seen him soft since the beginning of the weekend, and she will probably never be tired of admiring his body. They could skip the dinner and she could run her tongue down on this perfect chest, lick his sexy abs and makes him grow harder in her mouth. That’s probably what she would do if her stomach wasn’t starving.

“Put on a nice shirt and a pair of jeans. I’ll rip them after dinner anyway.”

“Sassy.”

He obeys, and twenty minutes later, the waitress guides them to a discreet table in the back of the restaurant, his hand never leaving hers.

“Do you want to share a plate of oysters with me to start?” he asks, putting his glasses on to read the menu.

She does the same, due to her sight diminishing a bit more every year. An hour ago, they felt like two teenagers, constantly aroused by each other, but as soon as they leave the bed, their ages catch up with them. They actually like both side of their relationship. Absence and distance always make the sex wild and frenzied, but it’s also nice to share a good meal together and small-talk like everyone else. The key is to be able to leave the bed.

“Do you need an aphrodisiac, Duchovny?”

“Nope. Not with that dress, at least.” He stares at her cleavage with wolf eyes, and the thought of his dick between her breasts makes him shiver. He will need a lot of wine if he wants to survive this dinner without embarrassing himself. “A plate of twelve oysters, and a nice bottle of Pouilly Fumé to start, please,” he orders to the waitress. “Then I’ll have the pasta primavera, and I’m 99 percent sure that the lady will take the Frutti di Mare, right?” She smiles, nods and puts her hand on his.

“You’re such a gentleman.” She circles the back of hand with her thumb tenderly, gazing at him.

“What, me? No. It’s a façade, and you pay the bill, woman.”

She chuckles and withdraws her hand to leave room for the waitress who brings the oysters and the white wine. The waitress pours a taste into David’s glass, and he pretends to know what he is doing, taking a small sip, and making a production over rolling the liquid on his tongue. She tries to refrain from laughing when he tosses his head back to gargle, and finally swallows and nods to the waitress. She is not a drinker, but sometimes, mostly when she’s with him, she allows herself to take a few sips. She trusts him enough to let go with him.

“To love?” He raises his glass to clink with her.

“To love,” she agrees, and takes her first sip. “I really missed you, you know,” she says with an emphasized pout.

“I know. I saw that when you almost jumped my bones in the elevator yesterday.”

“I didn’t…” Her eyes are sparkling. They both pick up an oyster shooter and take them at the same time. She closes her eyes, humming with pleasure.

“Yes, you did. But I’m not complaining at all. I wish we could do that every time. I missed you too, babe.” His voice becomes soft and tender.

“Okay, stop. We should agree to no sad talk. Let’s stay positive. I don’t wanna cry tonight.”

He nods, and even if he could actually use some aphrodisiac tonight, he leaves her the last oysters.

They didn’t see the time pass, immersed in their own bubble, talking about everything and nothing like an old couple. Their relationship, whatever it used to be, has lasted for more than twenty years and they are never out of talk. She likes to listen to him when he talks about the last book he read. She always asks him to lend it to her, even if she knows she’ll probably never read it. In London, her bookcase is full of the books he’s let her borrow over the years.

He loves listening to her when she talks about her new theater projects. She always looks so excited, and yet scared. He wonders why she does that to herself if it stresses her out that much, but he admires her courage and the fact that she continuously pushes herself. That ambition and fearlessness was something he took from her when he finally decided to make an album and play on stage. It hasn’t always been like that, but now that they’ve grown up and matured, she brings out the best in him, and he always makes her glow.

When their main dishes arrive, he notices that her pupils are dilated even though he’s the one who’s drunk the majority of the bottle. He orders a new one. After all, it’s Saturday night, they don’t have to drive, and they barely have to walk to reach their bedroom upstairs.

“I like that you’re a vegan,” she says randomly, looking at his pasta.

He chuckles and pours her a glass with the fresh wine bottle. “Why’s that?”

“’Cause it keeps you in good shape… and it adds to your endurance.” Her fork stabs a small carrot on his plate, and she eats it the sexiest way she can, with all the alcohol running through her veins.

He is hypnotized by the movement of her jaw, and every chew makes his cock twitch. “What else do you like?”

“Hum… You first. Tell me, what do you like about me?”

“Everything,” he deadpans.

“No! Come on, I wanna know!”

“Okay, well… first… I like the both of them,” he says, pointing at her breasts with his fork. “And I was just thinking that… I really like how fearless you’ve become.”

“Whatever.” She twirls her fork in her pasta.

“No, I’m serious. You’ve inspired me, babe. I’ve done things I never thought I’d do…”

She raises her eyebrow and stuffs a forkful of scallop in her mouth. 

“... with my career and life by using you as an example.”

Gillian chews thoughtfully. “Vulnerability takes courage. Or is it the other way around?”

He has to think too hard on this, his brain fuzzy. “They’re both important.”

“Yes.” She points to him with her fork. “Very.”

They both eat a few more bites in silence, the soft din of conversation and tinkling silverware on plates surrounding them. “What I like about you,” she says, and pauses for a moment.

“Really have to think, don’t you?”

“No, no. Well, I love your intelligence. I’ve never been an intelligent person.”

“Shut the front door,” he says.

“Fuck off,” she replies. “I may act smart, but I’m an actress.”

“You’re brilliant, babe. You do so many stuff I wouldn’t even try to do. You’re an accomplished actress, a great mother, a sex goddess, should I continue?”

“Yes, please.” She chuckles.

“I thought it was your turn? So I’m just a nice ass for you? That’s all?”

“Oh, I *love* your ass! Why do you think I always walk behind you?” She takes a sip of wine and raises her fork to signify she will continue to talk in a moment. “I love your sense of humor, too. And I love that no matter what happened between us, you’ve always been there for me when I needed you, even in the worst moments of my life. I always knew, and I still know, that I’ll always can count on you.”

They stop eating for a few seconds, gazing at each other, serious expressions on their faces. He could tell her that he likes that too, that she always been there for him, that she helped him to go through so many things, in his career and in his personal life, that she’s always been a shoulder to lean on and she’ll always be, but she knows that already. He’s told her that so many times before that he doesn’t need to tell her again. She knows his feelings just looking through his eyes, and it’s sufficient.

“I love your ass too,” he simply says playfully, and she chuckles, chewing the last bite of pasta from her plate.

-

Their stomachs filled with good food and their blood infused with alcohol, they stagger to their bedroom, leaning on each other for support. As soon as he shuts the door behind him, he kicks his shoes and collapses on the bed with a heavy sigh while she stops in the bathroom to remove her makeup. 

When she gets out after only a few minutes wearing only a black lacy thong, she hopes to find him awake and ready for their last night together before they have to be apart again, but he is already asleep on his side of the bed, lying only in his boxers. She thinks about slipping one or two hands under this underwear to wake him up in the best manner, but he looks so peaceful and happy that she withdraws, finally laying on her side of the bed. Subconsciously, he wraps his leg and his arm around her body to spoon her, and takes a deep breath in her hair.

“Good night, my love,” he whispers and puts a soft kiss on the top of her head. 

_Sunday morning_

They wake up tangled in each other’s limbs, her body cradled into his chest. And bloody hell, do they ever stink like days of sex, sweat, and alcohol.

“I need to clean up,” Gillian groans, trying to extricate herself from the human knot they’ve made.

“But I like you dirty.” He hitches his leg over her.

“Well, I like you clean.” She wiggles out of his grasp. “Come on. I’ll help you clean up.”

He follows her like a lost puppy, the toned lines of her back hypnotizing him. They enter the bathroom and she starts the glass-walled shower, heating it up until steamy. She brushes her teeth and he dutifully follows on the other side of the double vanity. He watches her breasts jiggle slightly out of the corner of his eye. He takes a nonchalant sniff of his underarm and realizes that her assessment of the situation is accurate.

She steps into the shower and he follows; it’s a full shower with plenty of room for two. The sunflower head feels amazing against his back, but he moves so she can be the first beneficiary of the spray. 

She hums as the water runs through her hair and down her body. 

He can’t help but reach out and tweak a nipple, drawing a “hey” from her as she reaches for the shampoo.

She soaps up. He does the same. It’s a quick moment when their hands aren’t on each other and it’s refreshing in a way to have their bodies to themselves. 

She leans upward to capture his lips between hers, and pulls at his bottom lip, suckling and biting on it. His tongue slips inside her mouth, tasting like himself under the scent of toothpaste and cold water, and she sucks on it, the way she would do if it was his cock inside her mouth. Just the thought of it makes him hard against her belly, and he kisses her harder, pressing her against the tile wall. His hand snakes down her belly and he has to bend low in order to reach between her legs while he’s standing. She laughs at his awkward position and whimpers as he paws at her cunt.

“I can’t help it,” he says. “You’re so hot when you’re all wet.”

She grabs his wrist and pulls it upward, capturing one of his fingers in her mouth and giving it an impertinent suck. “Get me out of here and fuck me.”

Never faster than this moment, he shuts off the shower and sweeps her up into his arms, her arms clamping around his neck. He steadies his footing, then pushes the shower door open with his shoulder, maneuvering her carefully out. Their skin sticks together and her fingers playfully tug at the short, wet hairs at the nape of his neck. 

They're kissing, dripping wet across the carpet to the bed. He gently lays her down across the messy sheets and slides in next to her, facing each other on their sides. They kiss, soft and hard, slow and then teasing and eager. She pushes him on his back and straddles him, wet tendrils of her hair falling into her face and her pink nipples hardening in the cool air.

“Why can't we do this all the time?” Drops of water from her hair fall on his chest and she leans down to lick them.

“We wouldn't be able to walk.”

She gives him a half smile and rubs his chest roughly. “A small price to pay.”

He shifts under her, his arousal inexplicably growing once again. She notices and slides down his lean body, nuzzling the muscled lines of his abdomen and where his thighs meet his groin. His hand slides through her wet hair, lightly twisting in it, as he feels her breath on his heated flesh. 

She presses her lips against it and flicks the tip of her tongue against the taut skin.

She loves the clean taste of his after-shower dick. There is a trace of his own smell, the heady scent of his arousal. 

His soft skin sticks to the inside of her lips as she sucks on the head to his whimpering delight. She loves popping her lips over it and twirling his hot taste around her mouth.

She takes her time inching down his length. With every suck of her mouth he seems to get harder and his noises become deeper. She moves her mouth to the inside of his thigh, giving him a notable bite.

Then, as her small hand wraps around the head of his dick, she gently moves it like she's turning a doorknob. Open, open, open. Her soft lips move to his balls and suck one in hungrily. He sucks air through his gritted teeth and says her name with an assortment of profane words. She moves to the other ball and the same response occurs. She sucks harder, her hand's motion increasing in speed. His pre-cum is sticky turned slippery. 

Knowing he’s riled up, she grabs the lube bottle from beside her and slickens two fingers with it, sliding them up the cleft of his tight little ass.

He growls. This means yes. She knows from experience.

She works a tip of her finger between his cheeks and strokes the outside of his puckered love hole with her fingertip. She slowly strokes her pointer finger upward, gesturing inside in tiny increments that make his moans a pitch higher while she laps at his cock with her tongue. 

Inside him, she curls her finger tenderly upward and works her mouth down over his hardness, thick and hot as he shifts and squirms under her control.

His hips begin to thrust up in a familiar rhythm and she knows she'd better catch him in her mouth soon.

She slides her tongue up the bottom of his length, following the ridged vein until she can swirl around the tip again. 

"Do you want to come in my mouth or in my pussy?" she breathes.

“I don’t fucking care, just let me come.” His voice is strained. She likes this. She withdraws her finger from his ass and climbs over his hips, straddling him and dipping the head of his cock inside her. So hot. So wet and ready for him.

“Jesus.” He’s panting.

“Not yet,” she says. Another agonizing dip into her heat.

He whimpers. Then he catches her off guard by violently grabbing her hips and pushing her down, seating himself deep inside her with a movement so quick she cries out in pleasure and pain.

“Asshole.” Her fingernails leave red scratches down his chest for good measure. 

He curses loudly as he immediately comes inside her. And she starts laughing, her muscles spasming around his cock from the force of her amusement. “Ugh, fuck off,” he breathes, his hips doing mini-thrusts against her. 

“You came so quickly,” she says.

“I couldn’t help it. I’m a young man in an old man’s body.”

“Well maybe now you can hold off,” she says as she begins to ride him, bending her knees to grind his cock as deeply inside her as she can. He shivers from head to toe with the nearly unbearable sensation of her riding his cock so soon after he came. He grits his teeth and takes it, listening to the wet slap of her body on his and letting her ride him as hard as she wants. And it’s hard, because she loves the control, loves to decide how deep he gets to go and how long he gets to be there. Her soft panted whimpers are in a constant rhythm with the pace of her body. 

Suddenly she leaves him, bending her body across him to the nightstand. She fumbles inside a small bag and pulls out a silver bullet vibrator that she immediately turns on and returns to her position on his thighs. 

“Always prepared,” he says, with a grunt as she sheaths him in wetness and heat again.

She presses the bullet against her clit and immediately lets out a mixed cry of pleasure and relief. Now she’s riding him and he can feel the vibrations against her clit and her face is so beautiful when she turns it up to the ceiling and bucks up on him three times, the last time coming so hard that he feels spasms around his cock. She cries out many “fucks” and “yes” and “David” so mixed up that he can barely tell the difference. 

And he’s ready to come again.

She takes a few calming breaths and moves down his body, sucking his wet cock into her mouth and taking in everything she can. The bullet is still on and she presses it against the side of her cheek so he can feel it hard against his shaft. The vacuum of her mouth and the sensation of the vibe send him over the edge and he nearly yells, expecting an echo in the cavernous room, as he empties himself into her throat.

He feels her swallow and hears the bullet switched off. She pulls him out of her mouth and arches her eyebrow at him, licking her lips. “Nice.”

“Fuck.” He’s spent, flat on the bed.

She clambers up beside him and heaves a sigh as she lands next to his body. “I don’t know if I can anymore.”

He flops his hand onto her arm and rubs it, his head still clearing from his orgasm. “Same.”

They breathe together, relaxing. “Babe, can you get me some kombucha?” he groans, his eyes closed.

“Fuck off,” she murmurs, drifting off to sleep.

He lies with her snoozing on his chest, thinking about the precious few hours they have left before their hotel check out. They can spend some times in the little shops, enjoy some ceviche together, but this--this deep intimacy, her naked in his arms--the memory will be all that’s left. He doesn’t want to sleep. Not for a second.

His fingertips brushing across the muscled lines of her back know this place like home.


End file.
